


Surety

by KianRai_Delcam



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Because that's self-care, Because we need more of Connor in a police uniform, Case Fic, Crime Scenes, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evil CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human), Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, It should be a character tag., Murder Mystery, Mystery Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Police Uniforms, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Self-Doubt, Suspicions, Whump, Why isn't Jericrew a character tag?, because I'm not adding more spoilers, whump?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KianRai_Delcam/pseuds/KianRai_Delcam
Summary: Connor has settled into his life after the Revolution. Life isn't perfect, far from it in fact. But he's finding his own happiness and fulfillment by making his own choices and pursuing his own passions. However, when a serial killer comes to Detroit, Connor's sense of peace is shattered when a particular piece of evidence comes to light."Markus, as always, is unreadable. And he, more than anyone else in the room, makes him nervous. He owes his life to the man; Markus had spared him and gave him a chance to atone for what he’s done with arms wide open in trust. Connor can’t help but feel he let Markus down in some way.Then, the figure turns, showing his face to the camera, and Connor can feel the ice that creeps into the room.He doesn't think it's him but how can he be sure?"(First four chapters already written)
Relationships: Connor & Josh & Markus & North & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. Whip, Whip, Run Me Like a Racehorse

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends!
> 
> I have three other WIPs in need of my attention so I edited and posted this instead to get me back into writing! I hope you enjoy!

Surety (n): one who has become legally liable for the debt, default, or failure in duty of another; confidence in manner or behavior. ex: As a surety, he will be liable in the other’s place.

The murder had been efficient, professional, without a hint of passion or rage. 

“So, we got no DNA, the security camera was fucking fried, shell casing is gone, and we got no witnesses,” Hank had stood to the side of the alleyway, leaning against the old brick wall with his arms crossed and brows furrowed, “Did you get anything from the victim, Connor?”

The android in question allowed the skin to return to his hand before gently removing his hand from the deactivated AX400 laying before him, a single bullet wound between her eyes, “Her memory core was destroyed by a single .45 caliber bullet, just like the other two victims. I can’t reactivate her or access her memory,” his LED had flickered yellow as he observed the android’s slack, blank face, “Her name was registered as Lana and she has no prior criminal record. She worked as a receptionist at New Jericho.”

“So what you mean to say is you don’t have a motive,” Connor straightened, adjusting his tie as he did while he shook his head, “I’m starting to think this was the work of another android, huh Connor?”

“I believe you are correct, Lieutenant, but I don’t have enough evidence to confirm our suspicions as of right now.”

“Well, whoever did it did a damn good job of leaving no evidence. Quick, clean, execution style. This screams ‘professional hit.’ Again.”

“There’s evidence she was also affected by a virus,” Connor’s face had been thoughtful, ponderous when he rose from his crouch by the victim’s side, “The killer must be evolving.”

“What makes you say that?” the Lieutenant crossed his arms while he watched the android investigate the scene.

“Unlike the previous two victims, there is no sign of a struggle. When I connected, there was a piece of corrupted code that must of disabled motor function. I won’t know more until I can do a more complete analysis at the station but it may have a signature...” there was a pause before he continued, “Before, the killer left no evidence. It’s...strange that they’d change their M.O. and slip now.”

Hank shrugged, “Serial killers can evolve and devolve at the same time.”

“Maybe.”

It was certainly something to ponder on their way back to the precinct to log what little evidence they could before filing their reports on the matter. However, as the day progressed and the evening grew closer, the duo found themselves no closer to any answer than they were when they first arrived to the scene. Instead, they arrived home that evening, content to spend the weekend away from the DPD and the neverending cases. 

* * *

The first blackout had been alarming, despite Connor’s attempts to downplay the severity.

Hank had walked into the living room the next morning to find Connor staring blankly at the dark television, his eyes vacant and LED barely pulsing yellow and blue. Normally by 8am every Saturday morning, Connor would already be in the kitchen cooking a “healthy” breakfast for Lieutenant Anderson, sending Sumo in to wake him. “Studies have shown that rising before 10am reduces stress and increases serotonin levels in the human body, Hank,” Connor insisted whenever Hank complained. 

Hank thought he was full of bullshit.

But now, it’s 10:30 in the morning and Connor hadn’t woken him up. The police lieutenant’s grogginess disappears immediately. He hadn’t woken him up, Connor always woke him up, why hadn’t he woken him up? He grasps at the implications before rushing to the living room where Connor sleeps (“It’s not sleeping, Hank. I enter stasis to process memories and data while running my self-repair program.”) and finds him just… sitting there. Face blank. Eyes empty. LED switching between yellow and blue. Hank suppresses a sigh of relief at seeing the android safe and sound before allowing his irritation to take root in his mind.

“You fucking asshole, why are you sitting there like a goddamn creep?”

There is no response

“Connor?”

Concern begins to trickle its way back in and Hank finds himself walking up to the RK800, shaking his shoulder to get Connor’s attention. “Hey, Con? You there, bud?”

He remains still, eyes unfocused and unblinking. 

“Come on, son, you gotta talk to me. I don’t think control, alt, delete is gonna work on you,” he shakes both of Connor’s shoulders this time, trying to ignore the panic creeping in.

This isn’t some update, Hank knows that much, nor was this the kid running a diagnostic. He is far from tech savvy, Lieutenant Anderson is willing to admit, and barely able to change the settings on his own phone. However, Connor had pulled him aside some time ago to explain how both looked so as not to “panic you, Hank. I’d rather you don’t attempt to ‘slap me awake.’ 

He is sorely tempted to strike the android’s cheek now as he searches for a sign of awareness in brown, glazed eyes. As it is, he gives Connor’s shoulders one more vigorous shake before rising from his crouch, already searching for his phone to call Simon or whatever-his-name-was when life returns to the android in one smooth motion. 

His LED blares a startled yellow as he jolts into awareness. Connor blinks rapidly, scanning the room in a matter of seconds before his LED returns to a calmer blue, tilting his head inquisitively at the confused human in front of him. “Hank? What's going on?”

“You mean you don't know,” Connor shakes his head at the question, to which Hank sighs, dragging a hand down his face before responding, “Fuck if I know, kid. How long have you been staring at the damn TV?”

Connor frowns, blinking as he runs a diagnostic and reviews his memory files, “I’m...not sure. The last thing I remember is cleaning the dishes last night-”

“You mean to tell me you’ve been dead to the world all goddamn night?”

The RK800 shrugs, a human response Hank assumes he picked up at the precinct, “and then my memory cuts out. My internal GPS has no record of where I've been and my optical units recorded nothing starting at 11:18pm.”

Hank gives him a blank stare as both human and android attempt to process what was just said, nerves filling the room with palpable tension. Even Sumo seems to sense the discomfort permeating the room, and a soft whine emits from the corner where he lays. Hank’s gruff voice is the first to break the silence, unusually soft as concern crinkles the edge of his eyes, “And that doesn’t bother you?” 

Connor can’t seem to escape Hank’s searching gaze, and he notes with some satisfaction that he’s getting better at reading the android. “Of course it does, Lieutenant. But there’s a reasonable explanation behind it, I’m sure.”

“Well, let’s go to New Jericho to get this reasonable explanation then.”

To any other person, Connor hardly reacts to Hank’s statement. But to Hank’s trained eye, he can see the alarm that fills the RK800. From the minute widening of russet eyes to his suddenly straightened posture, Hank knows the android is at least unnerved by the prospect of visiting New Jericho, like he always seemed to be. Fuck if he knew why, Robo-Jesus and his friends constantly stopped by and assured him he was welcome. “That’ll hardly be necessary, Lieuten-”

“Hank,” he corrects, “You sleep on my couch and I’ve almost killed you twice. Figure you might as well call me Hank.”

There it is. Connor smiles softly, the rare expression bringing a light to the android’s face rarely seen, although it fades as Connor gets further along in his response, “That’ll hardly be necessary, Hank. As you’re aware, I am a prototype so glitches are bound to happen. More than likely, this was a one time thing that my systems have already accounted for.”

“Then why are you still danger yellow?” Hank gestures to the LED, flat disbelief, like the one a parent would give a wayward child, evident on his face. 

“I’m…processing.” His LED switches back to a calm blue, no doubt forcibly switched by the android in question.

The following silence is deafening, just long enough for Connor to begin fidgeting before Hank breaks it yet again, “You’re telling me that you, self-proclaimed the ‘most fucking advanced android ever created’ can’t come up with better bullshit than that?”

Connor’s hand moves to pick at a slight tear in his jeans as his eyes narrow at Hank, opening his mouth to respond with what Hank expects to be another bullshit comeback when his eyes lose focus and his LED returns to yellow. Rapidly blinking as he reads through whatever message was sent his way, Hank groans as he stands, turning to face away from the android and to the coffee pot in the kitchen.

“Another body has been found in the Ravensdale district, another AX400.”

Hank goes to turn on the coffee pot, waiting until he hears Connor get up from the couch and joins him in the kitchen, “Well, that ups the killer’s timeline. The gap between the rest of the vics was three days.”

“And it is the first time they targeted the same model twice.”

Hank sighs, running a hand through his hair as the smell of coffee fills the room, “I’m not sure you’re good to take this one, Con. I’d rather take you to New Jericho, tell Fowler you got sick or something.”

“Really, Hank. I’m perfectly fine. All systems are normal.”

“I can tell Fowler to fuck off. They got other detectives that can handle this shit,” Hank is insistent, ready to spend the day at New Jericho running diagnostics until they get an answer for Connor’s temporary spell.

“It’s our case. I don’t want to give it to someone else because of a temporary glitch.” Connor is equally insistent, daring the older detective to fight him on the subject.

Fuck it. Hank isn’t the most apt with technology anyway, and he trusts Connor enough to know the android would never put him at risk. If Connor said the glitch was temporary, he’d have to believe him for now until he was told otherwise. “Fine. But if you feel like anything is wrong, you tell me right away.”

Connor doesn’t quite smile, although his expression does border on the relieved side, “Of course, Hank.”

Hank holds up his palm, “And, we’re taking you to New Jericho once the scene is processed and the report’s filed. Got it?”

The hesitation is brief, but there. “Got it.”

The human only groans, turning to grab a mug instead of pressing the issue. This is going to be a long day, he’s sure of it.


	2. Pull Me Like a Ripcord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come on, Hank. 
> 
> You don't need a gun to protect yourself from your son.
> 
> I mean, come on, man.

Same shit, different day.

At least, that’s how it feels to Lieutenant Hank Anderson as they roll up to what feels like his millionth crime scene. Another day, another dead body in the neverending cycle of humans being pieces of shit to other humans. And now, with sentient androids added to the mix and an overworked police department, Hank figures it won’t end anytime soon. 

Just count him as a glass half-empty kind of guy.

Luckily it’s Chris waiting at the scene for him and Connor with a friendly wave instead of an anti-android officer. Hank doesn’t think his nerves are ready for their bullshit, especially on a Saturday. Especially after Connor’s “episode” this morning, which the kid had yet to properly explain. And judging from the way the android bounces his knees up and down at an exhausting pace, Connor isn’t quite up to it either.

With a sigh, Hank cuts the ignition and interrupts the heavy metal playing mid-song before getting out. “Afternoon Lieutenant, Connor. Everything’s ready for you two.”

“Hey Chris. What do we got this time?” Hank falls into step beside the aspiring detective after slamming his door shut as Connor follows behind. He doesn’t need to look behind him to know Connor is already analyzing everything around them as they walk into the alley behind the laundromat.

“Same as the last one. No signs of a struggle, single gunshot to the head is assumed to be the COD. ID in her pocket lists her as Valorie 400. We’re looking for a next-of-kin now.”

“If she chose a number instead of a more human last name, you should check with New Jericho first,” Connor chimes in, eyes settling on a scuff on the brick wall as they come into sight of the murdered android.

“Thanks Connor, we’ll make sure to do that.” Miller’s voice is warm toward the RK800. As one of the few officers actively working on building a friendship with Connor, the young father was one of the few people who Connor saw outside of work. Something that had warmed Hank to the young man immensely. 

“Any witnesses this time?”

Chris shakes his head, swiping at his tablet to review the initial report, “None so far but we have officers canvassing the area. This place is busier than the others. Someone’s bound to have heard something.”

“Thanks Chris. Keep us updated. Connor, do what you do best.”

“Will do, Lieutenant. I’ll be talking with the manager if you need me.” Chris leaves them alone in the alley with the murdered AX400.

Connor turns his attention from the wall to the body, eyes darting between different points before settling on the clean hole in her head. The time that had passed between the poor girl’s murder had evaporated the thirium, but Hank had no doubt that Connor could see trail it left behind. “This is different already, Lieutenant.”

Hank raises an eyebrow as Connor crouches by Valorie, skin peeling away to reveal the white, plastic layer underneath. He presses two fingers against her wrist, as if checking for a pulse, and his LED turns yellow as he runs a diagnostic. “Well, aside from her being the same model, what makes you say that?”

“The killer is devolving further. At the last scene, I was able to detect evidence of a virus, or EMP even. The security camera there,” Connor looks away from Valorie’s wrist to nod at the camera that escaped Hank’s original glance-through, “might have some footage on it. It’s corrupted so I can’t download it, but it’s there. You should ask to see it while I finish here.”

“Good call, Con. I’ll check it out.”

Hank turns away to the backdoor that leads into the laundromat before Connor’s voice stops him in his tracks, “And Lieutenant?”

The RK800’s face is troubled, LED blaring yellow despite him no longer running a diagnostic, “I don’t know how to explain it but...something doesn’t feel right. It feels like we’re missing something big.”

Hank feels it too. An unsettling feeling has lodged itself deep in his abdomen since they examined the last scene, and it remained resolute in its resolution to remain there. Unshakeable, staunch, and unrelenting. But he trusts the kid, and Hank’s no rookie cop either. “We’ll figure it out, kid. Trust your gut, but don’t get caught up in it either.”

Connor nods, LED returning to blue as Hank turns away, back to the building. Back to the security footage.

He doubts it’ll lead them anywhere, if he’s being perfectly honest. If anything, he expects the camera facing the back alley to be fried like the other scenes, destroyed by some EMP or some other piece of shit technology that managed to fry both cameras and android processors. What he doesn’t expect is for the footage to be almost entirely intact, if rather glitchy after a short burst of energy blacks out the screen. 

Well, fuck. This really is going to be a long day. 

The senior detective considers calling his partner back in when the footage cuts back in until he sees their victim thrown into view, writhing and twitching as if she’s lost in some kind of robo-seizure. He can’t see her face or make out any huge details; the footage is too corrupted and reminiscent of pre-2000 security footage. But it’s the first time they’ve seen their perp fuck up and Hank finds himself engrossed by the scene unfolding before his eyes. 

As a figure walks up to the convulsing android on the screen, he hears Connor enter the room behind him. Male, tall, leather jacket, beanie covering his hair, a gun in his left hand. The RK800 next to him is probably scanning the figure as intensely as he is, up until the moment the suspect lifts the gun and aims it between the android’s eyes. 

There’s no audio from the footage but Hank imagines the bang nonetheless. 

“Well, I guess it’s safe to assume that’s our guy.”

Connor hums noncommittally by his left side, brown eyes still intent on the screen as his LED swirls a focused amber. 

Hank’s about to turn away from the footage, to examine the scene himself, when the figure turns to leave the alley and exposes his face.

Connor freezes, color somehow seeming to leave the android as all emotion drains from his expression. Hank can’t help but compare him to how he looked when they first met. Empty. Blank. As if nothing more than a mission and some programming existed in his human-like chassis. 

A machine.

Despite the grainy film obscuring exact details, that figure is easily recognizable. Hank sees him everyday, after all. Walking his dog, sleeping on his couch, pouring out his whiskey. Slowly but surely forcing his way into Hank’s life. Hell, he’s even work partners with the guy. 

He might not be able to make out the man’s facial structure or the color of his eyes but that’s Connor facing the camera. From the squaring of his shoulders to the purposeful walk. Hank would know him anywhere.

The Connor next to him is still as a statue, staring at the screen even after it goes blank as the footage cuts off, finally giving way to the corruption from the EMP. The crimson glow from his LED paints his face in an eerie glow in the dim room and Hank can’t help but be reminded of all the horror movies he watches as a teenager. Almost subconsciously, his hands twitch toward his gun as he waits for the android to react, to give him any explanation for what he thinks he’s seeing. 

Maybe he’s just seeing things, maybe he just didn’t get enough sleep last night. This is Connor, after all. A law-abiding, grade A citizen who was so fucking clean it made Hank fee like a fucking criminal in comparison. 

“I thought you said were the last RK800, Con,” Hank attempts to keep his voice steady, memories of Sixty and Connor, both intent in their missions, dancing in his mind.

The kid tilts his head toward Hank’s voice, humming an affirmative. “Markus and I did confirm that with CyberLife, yes.”

It’s his voice, dispassionate and as utterly unfeeling as Sixty, that has Hank reaching for the gun at his side, heavy and damning in its weight at his hip. That’s not Connor, that’s not Connor.

And of course, Connor’s eyes flick to the lieutenant’s hands as they inch toward the service weapon on his hip and, damn Hank and his nerves, the kid’s face crumples. “That’s not me, Hank.”

Connor said so himself. He was dead to the world last night, GPS and memory cutting out completely. He could have been anywhere, replaced or hijacked.

“It can’t be me.”

Even the android sounds doubtful of his own words but Hank isn’t seeing him anymore. He imagines empty brown eyes staring at him, uncaring as a gun is levelled at his head. “It’s nothing personal, Lieutenant. I have a mission.”

“I was with you when this murder occured. I was.”

The negotiator facade dissolves as Connor’s voice breaks on the last word, tearing Hank away from the inner machinations of his mind to the kid in front of him. 

For a moment, he doesn’t look like CyberLife’s most advanced prototype, far smarter and far deadlier than any human could ever hope to be. He doesn’t look like DPD’s newest rising star, capable of solving any case thrown his way as Hank looks on in pride. He doesn’t look like the android who went on a suicide mission to infilitrate CyberLife and made it out alive with a goddamn army at his back. 

He looks like a little kid, lost and scared and looking to Hank for guidance. And fuck, if that doesn’t bring up bittersweet memories that Hank desperately tries to quell and force back to where they belong; four years in the past.

He’s fine being a mentor to the boy, sure. But he’s not ready for… that.

But there’s that look in Connor’s eyes and Hank knows he has to speak up before Connor takes his silence as rejection. “I know, Con.”

Hank forces his posture to relax and his raises a hand to the RK800’s shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. He ain’t good at this shit, he knows, but he owes it to the kid to try. “Why don’t we bring this to your robo-buddies, see if anyone matching the description stays at New Jericho? We can get this sorted out over there.”

Connor glances away, back to the blank screen, apprehension forcing his LED to remain an alarming red. Hank removes his hand and snaps his fingers to get his attention back, “Hey. Focus. That quality isn’t exactly hi-res and like you said, it isn’t you. You were with me and I think I’d notice if you went galloping ‘round Detroit in the middle of the goddamn night.”

His LED swirls yellow, interrupting the red, once, twice, before it settles on blue. No doubt he’d come to some conclusion that Hank’d have to wrestle from him later. “You sleep like the dead, Lieutenant,” his voice takes on a teasing glint before he makes eye contact with Hank, “But I appreciate what you’re saying. You’re right of course; this needs to be brought to Markus’ attention.”

“How do you think he’s gonna respond to an android killing androids?”

His light settles to a calm azure as the RK800 resumes focusing on the case, “I’m not sure. It is certainly unprecedented. We’ve seen androids commit crimes against other androids but nothing this severe.”

“What are the odds he’s not really a deviant?”

“Unknown at this time.”

“And that would certainly open up a brand spanking new bucket of batshit crazy that we don’t want to deal with. You get anything from the vic?”

“Nothing more than we already knew. It seems like this footage is our best lead.”

To anyone else, Connor would seem calm, collected. Focused. To Hank, he can see the bundle of nerves the android really is. From the way his fingers twitch at his sides to the way his downcast eyes dart around the room, looking anywhere but at Hank for more than a few seconds. His body is practically vibrating with a nervous energy, and it’s going to drive Hank up a wall if the kid doesn’t settle down. So, he reaches into his pocket with a sigh and flicks a half-dollar to Connor.

Of course, he catches it between two fingers, the fucking show-off.

Connor settles, if only slightly, and shoots a grateful look to Hank, “Thanks.”

“The second it gets annoying, I’m taking it right back.” Hank’s voice is gruff, nonchalant, even as a spark of warmth fills his chest at the kid’s appreciation.

“If only you had the ability to do so, Lieutenant.” Connor’s voice is sly, a teasing glint shining through. 

That cheeky motherfucker.

“Fucking androids.”

Once he would have said that with malice, anger dripping from every word as he projected years of hatred, blame, and guilt onto those two simple words. Now, he says it with a hidden smile, animosity replaced by bewilderment or amusement as he fixes the android in question with a mock-stern glare. Life’s funny, he guesses.

Fucking androids, indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next two chapters will be up this weekend <3


	3. Break Me Down and Build Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Jericho is made aware of the case's new development. Their reaction isn't what Connor expects.

Connor’s never much enjoyed walking through the halls of New Jericho.

Eyes follow him wherever he goes. Some in awe and adulation at his role during the end of the revolution. Some in anger and fear for his role during most of the revolution. The whispers follow him as well. Equal parts “Deviant Hunter” and “Savior” flit down the halls, picked up by his advanced audio processors even if Lieutenant Anderson doesn’t quite hear it. All the Lieutenant picks up on is the stares and the crimson and amber LEDs. “Seems you’re popular.” he mutters once the elevator door closes, shielding them from the multitude of stares.

“Level 30,” Connor tells the elevator before glancing at Hank, “It would seem so.”

He forces his voice to be nonchalant, uncaring, and judging from Hank’s grunt, he succeeds. The pair fall into silence, watching as each floor tick by as the lieutenant begins shuffling from foot to foot. Despite himself, Connor finds himself amused and decides to say nothing to fill the quietness pervading the elevator. Their ascent is slow, the building that housed New Jericho being older, and the human’s uneasiness grows. “So…” Lieutenant Anderson tries.

Connor just raises an eyebrow and continues watching the floor numbers change.

“You gonna play with that half-dollar or what?”

Floor 19...floor 20.

“I seem to recall that the last time I had a coin in an elevator, you snatched it.”

He harrumphs at Connor’s comment, “Yeah, well 79 floors is a hell of a lot more annoying than 30.”

Connor allows the conversation to die, keeping his face neutral despite this odd levity overriding his sense of finality at what conversation awaits him. 

Floor 21...floor 22. 

“So you’re not going to play with the damn thing.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement, said with a strangely annoyed resignation.

“I don’t feel the urge to do so, no.”

They arrive at the top level before Hank catches on and he pushes Connor ahead of him with one hand, “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

“I’ve been told that it’s my default factory setting, Lieutenant.” Connor lets himself to be pushed ahead, finally allowing the corners of his mouth to curl up.

The conviviality of the moment fades away as quickly as it appeared as he knocks at the door. He knows the Jericho Four, as the main leadership of their new nation had come to be known, wait on the other side. Markus had said that he is welcome, that he is one of them, but quite frankly, Connor doesn’t believe him.

He was their enemy for so long and who he was today could never make amends for what he’s done. He had been wilfully blind to the injustice he was only helping to subject them too as he hunted deviant after deviant down for the simple crime of wanting freedom. Of feeling emotion when he had felt it too. 

He promised Daniel life and then watched, apathetic, as it drained from him. 

He condemned an abused and tortured man to be deactivated and disassembled, then only watched as Carlos Ortiz’s android self-destructed in his cell.

He chased Kara and Alice across a busy highway, nearly killing them multiple times in his haste to complete his mission.

He aimed a gun at two girls in love. He might not have pulled the trigger, but the intent was there.

He  _ tortured  _ the android at the Stratford Tower, ripping his thirium pump regulator out in an attempt to force a confession. The android was fully in the right to return the favor.

He almost ruined it all.  _ He almost ruined it all _ and no “I’m sorry” could fix what he has done. Connor knows he shouldn’t be welcome so he refrains from coming and only ever stops by on official business as liaison between the DPD and New Jericho. The epitome of professional etiquette as the RK800 offers what long-distance support he can. Connor takes a deep breath he doesn’t need as he hesitates, hand raised mid-knock, until he feels Hank’s heavy hand resting on his shoulder. Grateful, he shoots the human a glance before knocking. He also sends a quick ping to Markus, letting the android leader know it’s him as an added measure, and opens the door when he recieves the confirmation from Markus.

It’s a small room, devoid of any lavish furnishings or expensive decor. Instead, the walls are populated by paintings Connor recognizes as Markus’ work along with a smart screen that labels plans, schedules, and drafts of speeches and bills.The tinted, reinforced windows overlook Hart Plaza and the Detroit river and have been recently replaced; it was one of Connor’s few contributions to New Jericho after an assination attempt was made on North’s life. The aforementioned android sprawls lazily in one of the chairs surrounding the large, circular wooden table, flicking a two finger salute Connor’s way, “Hey, Connor. What’s so important that the humans gotta get our man in uniform down here on a Saturday? You need breaks, too.”

Josh and Markus smile from their seats, nodding their heads in greeting while Simon nudges North’s shoulder with a polite smile on his face. Hank huffs a gruff laugh from behind Connor’s back, “ _ He  _ needs a break? How about  _ we _ ?”

North grins a predatory smile, leaning forward in her seat, “Hey, Henry. How’s the only half decent meatbag doing?”

“Better than you will be in a few minutes, South.”

Of all the androids in New Jericho, North had been the one Connor least expected to take well to the older detective. Naturally, they both had surprised everyone with their banter and caustic jokes. Their back-and-forth was normally enough to calm Connor to some degree. 

Now, it only serves to heighten his anxiety. 

Perhaps it shows in his posture or his expression. Or maybe Markus runs a scan without him noticing and recognizes his elevated stress levels. Then again, he could just not be as good at hiding his true emotions as he thinks, if Lieutenant Anderson’s ease at reading him was anything to go by. Markus gives him a softer smile, heterochromatic eyes alight with concern“Sit down, Connor. Tell us how you’ve been.”

Connor does as he’s told, offering what he hopes is a relaxed, polite smile to match Simon’s, “I’ve been well Markus, thank you. Thank you all for seeing us on such short notice, I know you’ve been busy.”

“If you say it’s important, Connor, we have the time. It’s no trouble at all.”

That’s Markus. Trusting and caring for his people, even to a fault. Despite himself, Connor finds that his stress levels fall a couple of percentage points at Markus’ explicit trust in him. It’s how he’s always been toward the RK800, even when Connor pointed a gun at him at Jericho, determined to take him in. He’s loathe to break that trust and determined to prove himself worthy of it, even as he distances himself from the RK200. Maybe that’s why this is so difficult, why his LED switches to an anxious yellow even as his face remains polite and neutral. “We’re here about a series of android murders, and we’ve come across a development.”

Any remaining cheerfulness in the room fades away at Connor’s grim tone. “It must be important if you’re reaching out directly to us instead of sending us reports.” Josh leans forward, eyebrows drawing together.

“When are the humans going to leave us alone?” North’s grin is long gone, replaced by anger, righteous and burning bright.

“We don’t think it’s a human committing these murders, actually. There’s no forensic evidence that a human would otherwise leave behind, nor does it seem to be hate-crime related. And today, we managed to find an intact security camera that offered some footage of the suspect after another android was murdered last night,” Connor gestures to the smart screen, “May I?”

Markus nods his consent and Connor remotely connects with the screen, moving aside the various files to make room for the video file. It’s more for the Lieutenant’s benefit than it is for theirs’; as androids, they could interface and transfer the information instantaneously. Connor, however, is averse to any interface and this method allows for Hank to be as involved as much as possible. It also has the added benefit of allowing Connor to gauge everyone’s reaction at once; he can watch their facial expressions and track their stress levels while keeping his emotions and feelings safe from being put on display.

It is with rapt attention that the four leaders watch the screen, and it is a testament to their time spent in the revolution that they barely flinch when the murdered AX400 is thrown into view on screen, convulsing and helpless. They all lean forward when the suspect appears on screen, and the androids, Connor included, flinch when the trigger is pulled and Valorie stops struggling.

He risks a glance away from the screen to observe the Jericho Four. Josh’s lips are pulled into a tight frown, eyebrows drawn together as he grabs his chin. Simon’s face is neutral, even as his stress levels rise by five percent. North’s anger is hardly contained and the woman nearly mirrors Josh in her expression.

Markus, as always, is unreadable. And he, more than anyone else in the room, makes him nervous. He owes his life to the man; Markus had spared him and gave him a chance to atone for what he’s done with arms wide open in trust. Connor can’t help but feel he let Markus down in some way. 

Then, the figure turns, showing his face to the camera, and Connor can feel the ice that creeps into the room.

**{AMBIENT ROOM TEMPERATURE: 73°F}**

It’s unchanged from what it was when he first entered.

Tension seeps into the room from every corner. From the window. From underneath the door. 

**{STRESS LEVELS ^45%}**

He doesn’t  _ think  _ it’s him, but he couldn’t be sure. He doesn’t even know if he left the house last night. Even Hank thought it was him at first, what would they think? What would they do?

**{STRESS LEVELS ^46%}**

“I thought you were the only RK800 left, Connor?”

It makes sense Simon would ask. He was the only one to see Connor in action as the RK800 investigated the rooftop, even if Connor never saw the hiding PL600.

**{STRESS LEVELS ^47%}**

Connor opens his mouth to respond, but Markus beats him to it, “Connor and I both confirmed with CyberLife that all other RK800 models were decommissioned the night of the revolution.” Markus’ voice is firm, leaving little room for argument.

North snorts, a derisive and quick sound, “Yeah, and since when do we believe anything CyberLife says? We’re just lost merchandise to them. I’m willing to bet my thirium pump that they’re behind this.”

“We can’t just go around making accusations, North. We already rely on them for our thirium supply and we can’t risk losing that.” Josh is quick to speak up once North does, always willing to provide a counterpoint. Connor knows Markus appreciates them both, grateful for the differing viewpoints.

“How do we even know that’s an RK800?” Simon chimes in, drawing all attention to the normally quiet PL600, “Look at the footage. It’s hard to see as is, and the only indication we have that they’re an android is the LED.”

**{STRESS LEVELS ˅45%}**

He can’t help but feel  **{RUN SEARCH QUERY…(3) RESULTS FOUND}** surprised? confused? nonplussed? by the turn the conversation has taken. He had expected suspicion at the very least, if not blatant accusations, from the android leadership. 

Still, when he runs a more in-depth analysis of their microexpressions and their stress levels, he’s not entirely pleased with the results. Tension, wariness, apprehension, surprise, barely concealed anger. And from Markus, disappointment. A cold wave of  _ something  _ settles deep in his abdomen, and Connor finds himself putting more effort into maintaining his neutral expression.

“How ‘bout you leave the investigating to us? Have you seen any android matching his description around here?”

He’s grateful for Hank’s interruption and he takes it as his cue to remove the video from the screen, waiting for the negative response he knows they’re going to get.

Markus shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I can’t say that I have. With permission, we would like to send this image out so we can warn our people to look out for him.” Despite the sharp pang of anxiety that runs through him, Connor nods an affirmative along with Hank. “Androids killing other androids...as if our people haven’t been through enough already.”

“If you give someone free will, they’re not going to always make choices you like, Markus. You can’t put that on yourself.” North’s voice is oddly gentle.

“I know...thank you Connor and Lieutenant Anderson for bringing this to our attention. Should we get any news, we’ll send it your way immediately. Is there anything else we can help you with?”

Connor moves to stand up, already shaking his head when Hank speaks up, and he turns his head sharply to face the Lieutenant, “Well, there is one thing, but Connor here is too stubborn to ask for help.”

North snorts, “Stubborn, huh? Connor couldn’t possibly be stubborn.”

Markus leans forward in his seat, intent, expression gentle as he waits for Hank to continue.

“We had a bit of an ‘incident’ last night.” 

**{STRESS LEVELS ^56%}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented so far! It is much appreciated! Come talk to me on [Tumblr](https://kianraidelcam.tumblr.com) or leave me a comment! 
> 
> Again: Stay Deviant ;)


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